


evening, night, battlements

by vannral



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Kissing, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 22:46:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8420095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vannral/pseuds/vannral
Summary: Warden Alistair has arrived to Skyhold. He and Cullen have a chat on the battlements, reuniting after a long time.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, I haven't written anything for a long while, so this is probably a bit rusty. I was dying to practise Cullen and Alistair's dialogue and dynamic, and thousand other things, buuuut I ended up with this. Anyway, if you spot any grammar mistakes, please tell me (not a native speaker)

The night feels crisp, pleasantly cold against their skin, the sky spreads inky blue above them, shining silver with constellations.

Under them, Skyhold is still buzzing, full of life and lantern lights, people chattering about Crestwood and _Kirkwall’s Champion, ‘did you see him?’ ‘I think that’s his Warden contact, right?’ ‘He looks familiar…’_

     “Soooo…what is this I’m hearing about your awesome romance with the Inquisitor?”

Cullen makes a choking sound. “ _What?”_

Alistair grins smugly. “You heard me. Is that a blush I see? You sly dog, Cullen!”

     “That’s just – _no!_ There’s nothing between us, I assure you!” he argues stubbornly and Alistair waggles his eyebrows. _“No,_ Theirin, I _told_ you. Stop, you look ridiculous.”

     “I know, I know, I’m just teasing you”, Alistair grins and clasps his hand on Cullen’s shoulder. It’s a warm, _solid_ touch in the night’s coldness, digging into their skin. Alistair’s hand twitches, and like he doesn’t even realize how it ended up there. He inches a bit closer. “Not gonna lie, I’m so _glad_ I saw you”, he murmurs. “It’s been so _long.”_

Cullen’s gaze softens. “Yes, it has”, he agrees quietly. “How are you doing, Alistair, _really?_ It can’t be easy.”

Alistair sighs, and it’s a tired sigh, familiar to both of them. “No, it isn’t. I hear it. The whole _time.”_

     “The Calling?”

     “Yeah.” Alistair swallows thickly, shudders, and instinctively, Cullen steps closer, and for a second, _nothing_ has changed; it’s them, scarred, old and _exhausted,_ but still them, like years and _years_ ago, just young kids, trainees ( _innocent, whole, clean)_

Alistair leans against him, sighs in blessed comfort. “Nights are the worst, right?” he murmurs against Cullen’s shoulder with a weak laugh.

     “You don’t need to tell me that. They always are”, Cullen murmurs, drawing comforting circles on Alistair’s back.

     “Oh, you, too? We should start a club. ‘We hate nights’, come join us, no Archdemon this time!”

     “That would be something to see.”

     “Well, I don’t know. Could be nice.” A pause. “So, um, I _know_ I said, I was – uh, _joking,_ but um…are there any…special, significant…others in your life? Inquisitor or otherwise?”

Alistair sounds endearingly awkward, and a rush of warm affection, _adoration_ surges into Cullen’s chest. It’s like _nothing_ has changed; it’s still Alistair, the boy, who screamed top of his lungs _just to make something happen,_ and _Maker,_ he’s missed Alistair so hard he felt it viscerally in his gut, in his _bones,_ dull ache in his jaw.

And he’s _here. Right now._

     “Why do you want to know?” Cullen asks, amused, and even in the night’s dim light, he can see brilliant blush spread on Alistair’s cheeks. It makes his mouth go dry, his heart pounding louder.

     “Oh, no reason! Absolutely no reason, like, _at all._ Uh, just – contributing to Skyhold’s gossiping mill!”

     “Well, that is quite fast, considering you just arrived here.”

     “What can I say, I’m quick like that. Pretty… _nimble._ Absorbing information. Like a… _sponge.”_

Cullen chuckles, warm and low in his throat. “Oh?”

     “Yes! Come _on,_ Cullen…” 

     “Why sudden interest in my love life?”

     “You know _why”,_ Alistair mumbles, looking away embarrassed, biting the inside of his cheek. “So, uh, if you – _have,_ that’s fantastic, if you do! – but, um, otherwise, just – “ Suddenly desperate and horribly shy, Alistair leans forward, his gaze drifting to Cullen’s lips.

It takes a second of them looking at each other, unmoving.

     “There’s no one”, Cullen murmurs, his voice rough, eyes burning liquid amber, _drilling_ into Alistair’s.

Alistair breathes: “No?”

     “ _No.”_

Swallowing thickly, Alistair manages to whisper: “Oh, thank the Maker.” 

Cullen grasps the back of his neck and pulls him into a slow kiss.

It’s warm, familiar, like a dance they never forgot the steps to, and Alistair’s breathing _hitches._

With a content sigh, he angles his head, presses into it and licks into Cullen’s mouth. Cullen growls deep, in his throat, and their tongues slide together, _finally, after so long;_ happiness explodes in their ribs like a fire grenade, _finally, thank you…_

Alistair clings to Cullen’s shoulders, pulling him closer, and the kiss becomes messy, hot and _hungry._ Scorching desire pool into their stomachs, slithering into their veins, boiling all blood, and they’re frantic to dig deeper, to have _everything,_ after so _long –_  

Lack of oxygen forces them to part, and they rest their heads together, breathing harshly in sync.

     “Hi”, Alistair grins breathlessly, his fingers slightly trembling against Cullen’s shoulders.

Cullen chuckles, and it’s a deliciously _rough,_ gravel sound. “Hello.”

     “That – _oh,_ that was _amazing”,_ Alistair beams, his eyes crinkling.

Cullen’s hands settle on his hips, pulls him closer. “Would you – “ He clears his throat, suddenly awkward, and Alistair’s smile is bright, _sweet,_ “ – would you like to come…into my quarters tonight?”

     “ _Weeelll,_ considering that you have a whole place to yourself, I really don’t fancy sleeping next to sweaty soldiers at the barracks. No offense.”

     “Very opportunistic, Alistair.”

     “I know! But seriously, I’d love to. Not just because of sweaty soldiers, but because…I – I really want to. And I missed you.” _So much._

Cullen’s eyes darken, and his thumb brushes very tenderly Alistair’s chin. “I missed you, too.”

They share one last kiss that has them grinning like two, mischievous kids. In this light, Corypheus doesn’t seem like the end of the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
